


oedipus

by anethum



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Begging, Coming In Pants, F/M, Femdom, Hand Jobs, Mild Femdom, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, POV Lucifer, Parent/Child Incest, Pseudo-Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:47:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27147568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anethum/pseuds/anethum
Summary: Amy Dodd spends some time with Lucifer.
Relationships: Lucifer Morningstar/Amy Dodd
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	oedipus

**Author's Note:**

> originally written Jan 2019, never published.

“Well, now I know where I got my taste for the good life.”

Lucifer wasn't entirely sure what he was expecting his mother to be doing when he found her, but snorting coke after hardly being on humanity’s plane of existence at all certainly fit her.

She spun around in her chair, eyeing Lucifer, who sat calmly on her couch in her trailer. Well, calmly as one could be after seeing their escaped Hell-convict mother for the first time in a millennia.

“What are you doing in here?” Amy asked. He nearly scoffed. She had the gall to act like she'd forgotten her own son. Well, he wouldn't play into her little act.

“Amy Dodd, eh?” he said, grinning like a predator. He didn’t do underage, but his mother certainly knew who to pick. “Role model for teen girls, awkward erection for their fathers.”

She stood, wary of the Devil, but said nothing, so he continued. “A wolf in a sheep's tiny skirt. It's very appropriate, _Mum."_

Still, she didn't give up her façade. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

He really did end up scoffing that time. _Really?_

“Let's stop playing games.”

Lucifer stood, evening out the playing field. His Mum may be in a teenage girl's body but she was still every bit of the cruel Goddess he knew her to be.

“I know you're not who you pretend to be.” he told her, stalking closer. Amy wiped the remaining bit of powder off from beneath her nose. She too, went closer. Maybe she was finally stopping the ridiculous _Amy Dodd_ thing.

“I know who you really are.” he said, smugly smiling when he saw the ghost of a nod from her.

“Alright,” she replied in a voice that was _far_ too breathy, suddenly grabbing his suit jacket and slamming him back onto the couch, his neck hitting the armrest in a painful manner.

Fear bolted through him as he thought of his last days in Heaven; a memory of the Fall sprouted itself in his mind before he withered it away. She could hurt him, _really_ hurt him. She was the _Goddess,_ after all.

Immediately he strings together a ramble, saying, “Attacking me would be a–”

 _Waste of time,_ dies on his lips.

She was straddling him.

_She was straddling him._

“What _are_ you doing?” he asks, hoping his brazen fear doesn't creep into his tone as she busies herself with his shirt. Mum had been cruel, but she hadn't done _this._

 _Don't!_ he wanted to scream at her, holding his hands up in surrender. He could feel Amy's heat _everywhere,_ and he truly hoped it was _just_ Amy in there.

“You can't do this!” he exclaimed, panic crawling up his throat. He gave his jacket a second glance as Amy pulled it off his shoulders, already rolling her hips against him.

“I'm _tired_ of everyone thinking I'm _so_ innocent,” she said in a tone that made Lucifer suppose he was meant to be pitying her, “I'm _not._ ”

Well, clearly _._

He wished her character wore something more sensible, something like the Detective wore, boring _jeans_ or something of the like, not a skirt that spread out of the way, leaving only one layer keeping her burning heat off of him.

He could feel _her_ seeping through her fabric and dampening his. _Teenage hormones._

“And,” she said, since she was still speaking and decidedly _not_ removing herself from his space. “I'll prove it.”

She ripped her blouse open, buttons spewing everywhere and oh _Dad,_ his Mum's breasts were _right in front of his face._ He attempted to shield himself from the horrific view of his mother wearing a push-up bra five inches from his face, doing his best to turn away and raise his arms as a cover while she only smiled at him, biting her lip like she was doing something sexy.

Maybe it would've been sexy if, _A_ , she wasn’t possibly (hopefully not) his _Mum,_ and _B_ , if he actually wanted her to climb on top of him, which he absolutely _did not._

Then she pressed her hands on his chest, grabbing his slightly askew shirt, that time, as his jacket was halfway down his body and _kissed him._

She tried slipping her tongue in but thankfully, Lucifer his hands moved of their own accord and pushed her away. Which he was very thankful for, as the only thought process running through his brain right then was, _get off of me_ , played on a loop, over and over again.

“You aren't who I thought you were, are you?” he asked, because he _really_ hoped that _this monster_ wasn't his mother. His mother was a monster but not _this kind._ Not this _wolf._ “I _hope."_

He had hope for _Mum,_ of all people.

He truly wished for anyone else over Mum, in his current situation.

“Oh, I'm exactly who you think I am.” she purred, still biting her damn lip, still rutting against him like an animal. Well, no. Like the teenager she was.

She pinned down his wrists before immediately abandoning them to shrug down his jacket further, attempting to shimmy it off of him completely.

 _“Then this truly is the most evil thing you've ever done to me.”_ he responded, still trying to shrink from her. The couch was _much_ too small; claustrophobia suddenly chasing through his veins.

He was panicking again, unsure what to do with himself. This wasn't _really_ going to happen. No, no, it– this didn't happen to _Lucifer Morningstar._

Images of the Fall circuited his mind, of burning and the wind whipping past him. Of the first bits of Hellfire stripping away his once beautiful Angel face.

And _fuck,_ she was rather hastily going at his buttons as she bounced up and down like an overactive puppy.

He spluttered. _“Stop with the buttons!”_

His command does nothing, Amy continuing to _hump_ him and tear away his shirt.

“Ju– just– _please–_ ”

“Oooh,” she said, smirking as she lowered her mouth to the crook of his neck to plant a sloppy, salivating kiss, “I like hearing you beg.”

He tried unlodging his bottom half from her, legs kicking, but it doesn't do much as she was sitting on his waist, so he bucked his hips to try to force her off, twisting and turning his body, but after a few tries of that, she– to Lucifer's horror– _moaned_ , long and loud, eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“I knew you liked this.” she told him, grinning, giving up on his buttons as he kept trying to stop her, instead simply tearing off his shirt like she had her own.

“I can assure you, _Mum_ , I don't!” he shouted; maybe the reminder of their true relationship would kick her out, if she was his Mum at all.

Not even bothering to mention the name, she nipped at his lip, which makes him tempted to bite her back, but on the off-chance that it really is his Mum, he has no desire to hurt her. That would make him a hypocrite, wouldn't it? Slapping her across the face for a squabble? Just like Dad.

“I'll _make_ you enjoy it.” she whispered huskily, grabbing his crotch and he hated the whimper that fell from his lips.

She pulled free his belt and Lucifer was frozen still, eyes wide and staring blankly as his heart pounded in his chest. His zipper was pulled down and Amy stuck her hand into his trousers, over his briefs and wrapped her warm hand around him.

Without any experience, her lack of skill showed, but still, her hand clumsily dragging up and down his length as best she could through the thin fabric made his already somewhat hard cock begin to harden further. Disgust rolled around in his stomach.

She gave him a sly grin as she felt up his reaction to her.

 _“Stop.”_ he gasped. Adrenaline ran through his veins like a marathon.

“You don't mean that.” she told him, swiping down his cock and squeezing her hand around the tip in a way that didn't feel good in the slightest, but left him panting anyway. “If you did, I wouldn't be feeling _all this."_

 _No,_ he wanted to say, _this is a stupid human reaction that occurs regardless of whether or not I wish this to happen,_ but his tongue stayed stubbornly still, even as his teeth began to make it bleed.

Amy dug her hand into his underwear, skin on skin. The sudden contact felt electric, his hips jerking upwards, into her hand as tears sprung into his eyes.

 _My reaction is because of the Detective being nearby,_ he told himself. _I'd be fine otherwise. I'm just more sensitive to both pain and, apparently, pleasure. Like I said earlier, I'm not_ really _enjoying this._

She pressed her lips to his again, lodging her tongue between them. She pulled back, wiping at her mouth while her other hand stilled in his pants. “Are you bleeding?”

He stared back, enjoying the sudden loss of movement from her. _Please, Detective, find your way to me._

Amy only shrugged, and dived back down, continuing their kiss and resuming her messy handjob, pumping his hardening member as she remembered to resume her hips rubbing against his skin, not bothering to pull off her panties.

He whimpered again, a cruel sound that resounded at the back of his throat.

She dragged her finger over the tip and he shut his eyes. She explored his balls, his length and he tried ignoring her, he did, but with Chloe close by, the pleasure was unlike any he had felt before.

His hips bucked up again, a stuttering moan coming from his lips, muffled by Amy's, which were still pressed down to his.

As best he could, he tore himself away from her, turning his face the side, though she quickly followed. Between her none-too-delicate kisses, he breathed, “ _Please._ ”

“I know.” she replied, grinning, tongue returning itself to his mouth, signifying that no, she did not know at all _._

Amy upped her pace, seating herself on his hip as she excitedly continued to rock herself back and forth, her wetness on his bare skin, leaking onto his shirt beneath him. Her movements began getting frantic and her strokes became urgent, madly jerking; the pleasure bursting through the seams of a cruel joke.

In any situation ever, Lucifer wouldn't describe himself as obscene, but he certainly _felt_ obscene then, dick painfully hard in his _pants_ , shirt a mess, buttons everywhere, chest heaving and lips bee-stung with the lipstick Amy Dodd pretended not to wear.

Lucifer heard himself gasp again, hips moving of their own accord. Was he–? No, no, no, no, it was _way_ too early for that.

She moaned, breathy and high just as he barely let a groan escape through his teeth; it exited as a hiss, shoulders tensing.

 _He_ felt like the teenager in the room, pelvis miserably shooting up as it searched for the friction his aching cock so desired, bucking towards the younger girl's hand. She went with his involuntary rhythm and it was clearly doing it for her and very regretfully, doing it for him as well.

She stuck her free hand in his hair, pulling at his hidden curls as his body gave into the pleasure, mouth dropping open and eyes fluttering as he made a keening noise at the back of his throat.

He was not going to come in his pants like _he_ was the teenage virgin.

But she then yanked, hard _,_ on his hair, pressing a hickey on his neck and his back arched, eyes squeezed closed. Apparently that movement did Amy in, because her mouth dropped open in a silent gasp, her body letting go; coming.

Lucifer was straining in his pants, biting his lip. He would _never_ pray to his father, but he certainly wouldn't mind someone, _anyone_ coming to save him.

Amy lay, satiated on top of his body, unconcerned with his arousal on her knee.

She licked a stripe up his cheek and rubbed her leg against him. He had been glad for its lack of moving.

He felt tears run down his cheeks, mixing with her saliva. His arms lay, frozen, having given up fighting a long time ago. 

He heard the door open.

Lucifer was close, and both Amy and him knew it.

 _“Please,”_ he wheezed, labored breaths heaving through him, his voice a high-pitched whine.

The word, _no_ , runs unspoken, his wrecked voice unable to get it out; knowing she wouldn't listen.

Amy only continued to massage him, dragging her hand up his length and his hips thrust upwards, stomach tightening with built up pressure before he released, a moment of awful bliss as a moan slipped through his lips. A sticky mess resided itself in his pants and he could already feel Amy's come cooling and drying between him and her, as she rested her head in between his neck and his shoulder, softly dozing off; her resting face a picture of _innocence_.

A new voice drifted into the trailer. “...Lucifer?”

She stood at the door of the trailer, her mouth agape, her expression one of plain shock.

“C _hloe."_ Lucifer croaked, desperate to get far, far away from Amy Dodd. Still, she lay on top of him, and he was tired, _so_ tired. He couldn't bring himself to push her off of him, frozen, like his joints were locked up.

The Detective walked in front of the two, apprehension written all over her face.

He stared back at her.

“You…” Chloe paused, confused. “You _slept_ with Amy Dodd?”

Her voice was accusatory; angry. Her face morphed into one of scandal, hurt, eyes scanning the two of them before registering what she was looking at. She sucked in a breath of cool air, bringing her hands up in frustration.

“Lucifer, you _know_ you can't do shit like this; _this is an official police investigation_ and how, exactly, do you expect people to take me seriously when _my partner_ is off pulling stunts like this?”

Lucifer flinched, as if physically whipped. “I– I _assure_ you, _Detective_ , I had no part in this.”

There was an edge of desperation that he immediately decided on despising. He sounded weak. But then, he'd been weak, hadn't he?

“You didn't have any part in Amy crawling on top of you?” she asked skeptically, fury creeping in her voice that he might've been proud of, some other day.

“No,” Lucifer said, firmly, trying to stop the sob crawling up his throat. “I _promise_.”

At his earnest words, her expression changed into another kind of skepticism. “You mean–”

He stared back helplessly, unsure if he wanted the words to drop from her mouth.

“Oh God.”

“Oh _Goddess_.” he corrected, a cool, lightheadedness washing over him. “Well, I hope not.”

Amy still lay on top of him, sound asleep. He could feel her breathing.


End file.
